


Doctor's Orders

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hospitals are a place of healing; a place of rest. Try telling this to Castle and Beckett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beckett's Injury

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2012 when I was eighteen and is being crossposted here along with the rest of my work. This was apparently written during my 'sex in ludicrous situations' phase, so join me in rolling my eyes at my teenage self.

"Castle, I promise, it's nothing major."

Beckett continued to protest as they made their way down the starkly lit hallway. Castle had one hand on her back as he guided her. Beckett's left hand was occupied with clutching her right shoulder, which made her wince every time that she moved it.

"Honestly, Castle, I just dislocated my shoulder. I've put it back in. Some yoga and rest will be enough to take care of it."

He ignored her in favor of looking for the proper service desk. Beckett rolled her eyes as Castle spoke with one of the nurses, laying on the charm pretty thick to get what he wanted. Two minutes later they were in the examination room.

"I'm pleased to inform you, Detective, that you have no extensive damage," Dr. Kidd informed them. "You set it back right away and you didn't pull any muscles or anything in the process, so it should be fine. Just give it a couple of days' rest and try not to fall down any stairs again any time soon."

"I was pushed," Beckett grumbled.

"And could have been grievously injured," Castle reminded her.

"By a suspect that we  _would have caught_ , but you had to freak out about me instead…"

"I think we're all finished here," Dr. Kidd said quickly. "You won't need any medication and this was just a preliminary examination, so you won't need to fill out any more paperwork."

"Thank you," Castle said as Beckett hopped off the table.

"Thanks." Beckett smiled at the doctor as he left the room, before glaring at Castle.

"Would it help if I said I'm sorry?" He asked, grinning goofily.

Beckett rolled her eyes and reached for her clothes. "Just focus on getting the suspect next time, okay, Castle?"

"You know I can't promise that," he said, his voice soft.

They stared at each other for a moment. It was Beckett who gave in. "Okay, fine, but at least try."

Castle nodded.

Beckett reached for her clothes again, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. "You know…" He said slowly. "Nobody's going to be coming in here for a while."

Beckett knew that tone. She glanced at the door. "Castle, we're in a public hospital. Emphasis on the word 'public'."

"Yes, but we're in a private room at said hospital. It's not any different from the interrogation room at the precinct."

She considered it. He did have a point, and he did owe her for losing their suspect and dragging her all the way here for no good reason. And it had been three days…

"All right. But we have to be quick," she warned, stripping off the paper nightgown the hospital had given her. Castle also shed his clothes with the speed and accuracy of one that has gotten used to doing it where he might be caught. The funny thing was, he'd learned how to do that  _after_  he'd gotten with Beckett.

Beckett was peeking through the closed blinds to make sure no one was headed towards them (and locking the door) when Castle pressed himself against her, scattering kisses on her neck, back and shoulders.

"Hello to you, too," Beckett said huskily, turning in his arms so that she could face him--and kiss him properly. "Is that a tongue depressor, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Well, it can be used as a tongue–" Castle's smarmy comment was cut short as Beckett kissed him, their tongues tangling together wildly. Her fingers speared through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as she tugged his head downwards.

"Examination table," she gasped out.

"Nah," Castle disagreed. "Here's fine."

He punctuated his decision by hoisting her up against the door. Beckett wrapped her arms and legs around him. After a moment or two of shifting, they had the right angle for him to thrust up into her.

"Comfy?" Castle asked. "You did just–"

"Oh my gosh, Castle, will you please shut up about my fucking shoulder?" Beckett demanded. She dug her heels into his lower back. "Now this was your idea, so hurry up and  _fuck me_."

"Such language, Detective," he growled with pleasure. But he began to move, and that was all that Beckett cared about at the moment.

While Beckett would never admit it, as it was a remnant of her younger, reckless days, she did love the thrill of possibly being caught. It was the only reason that she got it on with Castle at the precinct. Well, that and the fact that he was pretty damn sexy…

Castle loved this angle--he got the benefits of missionary position, but a much better view. And Beckett knew this, the minx. She angled her head back, stretching her arms out to brace her hands against the wall and door. If he hadn't already gotten used to seeing her in all of her naked glory, the sight would've made his eyes pop out of his head.

"God, Kate… you are such a tease."

Beckett laughed. "You… enjoy it," she replied, her breathing becoming more erratic with every mounting second.

He couldn't hold on. He just couldn't. He was going to…

Beckett peeked out from between the blinds again. "Shit! Castle, there's a nurse headed our way!"

The idea of being caught flooded Beckett's mind and she came just as Castle, too far gone to even register her words, also released. She didn't allow herself time to bask in the afterglow, however, sliding off of him and snatching up a bunch of tissues from the sterilized counter.

"Use these!" She hissed. Frantically wiping herself up, she snatched her clothes from the chair, getting dressed faster than she had since she was last late for work (six days ago, in case you were wondering).

Castle had just finished buckling his belt when there was a knock on the door. "Are you two almost finished in here?" The nurse asked, opening the door and sticking her head in.

Beckett gently stepped on Castle's foot to keep him from saying anything. "Yes, I just finished my examination. We're on our way out."

Castle considered making an 'examination' joke, but thought better of it when he saw the look Beckett was directing at him. As they made their way down the hallway, however, Beckett threaded her fingers through his.

"Apology accepted." She grinned at him.

Castle barely resisted the urge to do a fist pump.


	2. Castle's Injury

Beckett tapped on the frame of the door. "Knock, knock."

Castle stirred and opened his eyes. "Kate." He grinned. "Hi."

"Hey yourself," she replied, entering the room and perching on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better than I was before. It felt like I was hit by a tank."

Beckett smiled, taking his hand in hers. "What did the doctors say? Anything…" She swallowed. "Anything major?"

He shook his head reassuringly. "Nope. They took care of everything this morning. They'll be monitoring me for the night, and then I'll get discharged in the morning." He frowned. "Why don't you know all of this? Didn't they tell you?"

She shook her head. "No. Only family members, and since we're not… they said they couldn't disclose the information."

Castle watched her with warm eyes as she gazed down at their joined hands. Beckett wasn't entirely sure how to handle this situation. While she'd known it wasn't a big deal--well, if you can call a couple of cracked ribs 'not a big deal'--watching him get carted off had still been scary. She had always been the one to end up in the hospital bed before--either that or they were both in the back of an ambulance. It had never been just him. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

With that in mind, she looked up at him, mischief twinkling in her eyes. There were two ways that Kate Beckett pushed back fear--by fighting harder or by distracting herself. This time she was choosing the latter.

"You aren't expecting any other visitors for the evening, are you?" She asked.

Castle shook his head. "Alexis had to get back to school and Mother's got a show, so it's just us. Why…?" His face clouded over with puzzlement as he watched Beckett get up and close the door, flicking the blinds shut and pulling across the curtain surrounding the bed.

"Well, doctors traditionally hand out lollipops to good patients, but I think you're a little old for that." Beckett shrugged, the expression on her face nothing but naughtiness. "So I was thinking of a more grown-up reward for the brave hero?" She grinned.

Castle's face had 'oh boy' written all over it. "Did I mention that I love you?" He asked as Beckett climbed onto the bed.

"A few times," she said, getting up on her knees in order to slip off her tank top and camisole. "But it bears repeating."

"Well then," he replied, scooting up into a sitting position and throwing off the blankets, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Beckett climbed up the bed to straddle him. "I love you, too," she whispered it to avoid letting him hear her voice crack. She didn't waste a second but sank onto him, draping her arms loosely atop his shoulders. As she began to move she locked eyes with him.

"You promise not to let a suspect corner you like that again?" She asked, her words coming out with each gyration of her hips.

Castle's hands came up to grip her waist. "You know I can't predict those things."

"Then make sure that you stay out of danger," Beckett insisted. Her breathing became ragged, her words a little harsher than she intended. Castle didn't take offense at her tone, instead squeezing her gently for a moment before relaxing his hold.

"It's what we do, Kate. I'm the plucky sidekick. You can't ask anymore of me, just as I can't ask anymore of you."

Beckett picked up her pace, working out her frustration and her fear in her movements. "I know, I know," she choked out. "I just don't… just don't want to… I don't want to do this again."

"What? I'm… kind of liking this," Castle joked. He began to move upwards to meet her movements.

Beckett felt a pounding behind her eyes, like the foreboding building up of a migraine, only it was pleasure and not pain that was beginning to mount within her. She didn't reply, instead opting to lean forward and plant kiss after kiss on his forehead, temples, the bridge of his nose, eyelids… anywhere on his face that she could reach with her mouth. As the tension built, stretching like a rubber band, her kisses became more frantic, until Castle reached up and grabbed the back of her neck, yanking her down to seal their mouths together.

Beckett continued to move, even as the pressure became too much and the rubber band inside of her snapped, sending a few tears down her cheeks as she rode out her orgasm. She couldn't be sure when Castle finished, but when she finally stopped moving and collapsed on top of him he was rubbing circles on her back, humming tunelessly in her ear.

"I love you," she murmured repeatedly, senselessly, kissing him again and again until he pulled her back.

"If this is how you react, then I think I should get injured a little more often."

She smiled, letting him wipe off her wet cheeks. She clambered off of him, still smiling. Once she was fully clothed and had cleaned herself off, she returned to the hospital bed, helping him to settle down before curling up beside him.

"I'm your plucky sidekick," Castle assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."

Beckett snuggled in closer, inhaling his scent. "Plucky sidekicks always die," she murmured sleepily.

"Not all of them," Castle countered. "The first Robin, Dick Grayson, went on to have a successful career as a solo hero called Nightwing, and the third Robin, Tim Drake, is still alive and kicking, and don't forget about…"

His words became a droning lullaby as she drifted into sleep.


	3. Victim Interrogation

"Are you certain that you can't remember anything else, Mr. Simmons?" Beckett asked, leaning forward in her chair.

The man in the hospital bed, one Mr. Gerard Simmons, rising Wall Street banker and latest (attempted) murder victim of the mysterious person killing his business partners, looked a little lost for a second. Then he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry Detective. I didn't see anything. The man came up from behind."

Beckett nodded. "It's all right, Mr. Simmons. We'll catch this man, and until we do, you're in the safest place possible." She smiled reassuringly. "Why don't you get some rest? It's been a long, trying day. We'll call you if we have any more questions or if there are any developments."

Both the detective and the writer sitting by her side stood and respectfully left the room. Castle began to talk as soon as they were safely out in the hallway, however.

"Do you think he could have done it to himself? You know--pretended to be a victim to clear himself of suspicion. Like the fairytale murder, or  _The_ _Murder_ _of_ _Roger_ _Ackroyd_."

"Castle, he was strangled from behind; the bruising on his neck and fingers from when he tried to pull the rope off are both testament to that. You can't fake bruising. Besides, who would willingly crawl through bits of broken glass or fall down a set of stairs?" Beckett turned a corner, heading towards the elevators.

"It was worth a shot." Castle shrugged. He frowned when he saw where his girlfriend was headed. "Um, Beckett? We're not headed straight back to the precinct, are we?"

Beckett stopped and glanced back at him. "Why wouldn't we?" She asked.

"Well, it's just that… you know… we haven't… and Gates has been watching us like a hawk lately, and so…" Castle paused when he saw the look on her face.

"Look, Rick, just because we haven't had a chance in a week does not mean we skip out on work. We have a murder to catch."

"I'm not saying that we don't do that. I'm just saying that we go home, have a glass of wine, re-test the springs on our bed, and head into the precinct in the morning."

"Crime waits for no man, Castle, no matter how horny he is."

Castle scoffed, but Beckett resumed walking.

"Okay, fine, we can scratch the wine and all."

Beckett kept walking, but Castle kept after her. After the fifty-third attempt, Beckett stopped so suddenly that Castle bumped into her. She turned, fixing him with her deadliest 'don't-screw-this-up' glare.

"You're not going to lay off of me, are you?"

Sheepishly, Castle shook his head.

"Fortunately for you, Castle, it's been a week for me as well, and we're not going to get another chance at this until we crack this case, so…" Beckett glanced around. "One quickie. One. Then we go."

Castle grabbed her arm, yanking her back down the hallway towards a medical supply closet he'd spied. Beckett dug in her heels.

"What the hell? Castle, we're not going to fit in there!"

"Au contraire, my reluctant paramour," Castle replied, throwing open the door and gesturing inside. "You have clearly never had a daughter who interned at a hospital."

Every hospital needs to be prepared for any kind of physical issue, from viruses to bloody noses; and even in a place that's as well run as a hospital in the center of a bustling metropolis, crazy things do happen--such as a mother giving birth in the elevator or a zombie outbreak. And because of the sheer number of patients and the possible ailments that might occur no matter what area they're in, each level and section of the hospital needs plenty of supplies nearby and ready to go.

In other words, hospital supply closets are enormous.

Beckett stared at the shiny metal racks filled with everything from toilet paper to antibacterial spray. She stepped in slowly, still gazing around. Castle followed, closing the door behind them. Like ninety percent of all hospital doors, this one could only be locked with a key, and didn't have one of those simple turning locks on the inside (thanks to research on a Derrick Storm novel, he knew this was both because of administration and to prevent patients from meddling), so they would have to chance it. The wing they were currently in wasn't very full, however, and there were other closets closer to where the actual patients were staying, so he was pretty sure they wouldn't be disturbed.

He turned back to Beckett, only to find her already stripped and looking at him impatiently. "Wow."

She smirked at him. "I said a quickie, Castle. Now strip."

He grinned. "I love it when you give orders."

"Now if only you would follow them," she quipped, helping him with his shirt.

"Well maybe if–" Castle's brilliant retort was cut off by Beckett as she kissed him; the most effective way of shutting him up that she knew.

Tugging and pulling, they managed to end up on the tile floor. It was surprisingly cold, making Beckett squeal and arch her back as she lay down on it. Castle chuckled until she flipped him, and it was his turn to make shocked noises at the cold.

"Geez, is this stuff made of ice?" He demanded, rolling her over so that he was on top again.

"Funny, that's kind of what I said about your–"

Castle nipped at her jaw, making her yelp. "You were saying?" He asked innocently.

Beckett glared at him, but nevertheless hooked her legs around him. "C'mon, Writer Boy, show me what you've got."

Castle liked to brag… er… make known, his staying powers, but he also responded well to Beckett's good-natured goading, and so cut the chitchat and got down to business. Beckett made a noise of approval as he slid into her, tipping her head back slightly.

"And why are these tiles such a nasty green puke color?"

"Castle!" She should have known that he'd be able to babble even while in the middle of sex, the ridiculous man.

He had never stopped moving during his observations on the hospital's interior decorating, but picked up the pace at the sound of her voice. They didn't talk after that, but the tiny room was far from silent as low grunts, pants, and gasps filled the stuffy air.

Under normal circumstances, neither would have been proud at the rate of which they reached climax, but it had been a week--a week filled with traipsing up and down NYC and running into dead end after dead end in this stressful case--and they were both tightly wound, sexually and otherwise, because of it.

Castle could sense Beckett approaching the edge, and judging by the cadence of her breaths, it was going to be a loud one. He felt her inner walls clench around him and he shot out his hand to cover her mouth. Sure enough, Beckett gave out a muffled shout, her inner walls rippling around him and pulling his orgasm out of him. His body shuddered and he had to work to keep his arms from giving out and landing on top of her.

"That… quick enough… for you?" He asked, breathing hard.

Beckett lightly hit him, but she was laughing, her chest heaving like she'd finished a 5K.

"Hey, at least there's a lot of stuff here we can use to clean up," he pointed out, glancing up at all the supplies.

"Good, because the sweat's made my back stick to this damn tile."

Castle laughed, standing up and helping Beckett to her feet. They cleaned up and quickly disposed of the napkins and other supplies, keeping their fingers crossed that no one would notice. A quick peek outside revealed the hallway to be deserted, and they were able to sneak out and head back to the precinct.

They were just exiting the elevator at the 12th when the distinctive voice of Captain Iron Gates rang out.

"Detective! Since when has it taken you forty-five minutes to get here from a hospital that's five blocks away?"

"Shit," Beckett muttered.


	4. Annual Physical

"Are you sure we have time for this?" Castle asked. "We are in the middle of a case…"

"We've had to reschedule your annual physical three times already, Castle," Becket replied. It's on the way to our destination and won't take too long. I planned it all out."

He continued to grumble, but allowed her to lead him into the waiting room. Twenty-five minutes later they sat in the waiting room, surreptitiously checking their watches every couple of minutes.

"How much longer do you think it will take?" Castle asked. This was like a stakeout, only without the fun of possibly nabbing a killer.

"I don't know, Castle," Beckett huffed. She glanced around the waiting room. They were in a corner facing the television mounted on the wall; one middle aged woman, an elderly gentleman, and a young man in his early to mid twenties were all on the other side of the waiting room. The woman was reading magazines, while the older man appeared to be napping. The twenty-something was bobbing his head, his eyes closed as he listened to music on his iPod.

Beckett nearly jumped when she felt Castle's hand slide up her thigh. She was wearing a skirt--a rare, momentous occasion--and his hand glided smoothly up bare skin before slipping underneath the cotton material. Beckett glanced quickly over at the three other occupants of the room, none of whom was paying the slightest attention. There wasn't even a nurse at the desk. And so, even though she knew that it was wrong and they would get kicked out at the very least, if not arrested, she let Castle's hand continue on its upward journey.

After a moment, his fingers brushed against her damp underwear. They slipped beneath the seam, stroking the skin of her inner thigh. Beckett did her best not to squirm. Castle's face was admirably blank, his eyes fixed on the Judge Judy episode showing on the television screen. No one could tell by looking at his face that his hand had just dipped underneath her panties, one finger stroking her bare flesh.

Trying to regulate her breathing, Beckett gripped the thin wooden arms of her chair, praying that no one else would enter the waiting room. She really shouldn't have been getting so worked up like this, so turned on by the idea of getting off on Castle's hand in the same room as three oblivious (and, for all she knew, perfectly nice and respectable) people, but she was. She was completely turned on, ridiculously so.

Beckett squeaked a few curses at Castle past her tightly clenched teeth. He blinked, fighting back a smirk. His hand found her clit and rolled it gently. Beckett bit her lip to keep from gasping. She sent Castle a glare that he ignored.

Then he inserted a finger in her, and Beckett nearly lost it. She was pretty sure that her face was alarmingly red. She turned her head to glare at Castle again, but then he slipped another finger in and her expression melted as she tried not to groan. Beckett was certain that she looked ridiculous--or rather, she would have looked ridiculous to anyone who looked at her face and not at her lap.

Castle curled the tips of his fingers just a little, hitting the perfect spot inside of her, and Beckett had to forcibly stop herself from bucking her hips. She bit her lip again, screwing her eyes shut. Castle's rhythm was steady, and he worked her with an assurance born out of months of practice, but his pace was far too slow for her liking. Not just because her body was screaming for release, but also because they were technically liable to get arrested for public indecency.

"Rick!" Beckett hissed. Her throat felt unusually tight from her inability to vocalize her feelings.

"Hmm?" Castle looked over at her for the first time since this madness began. His expression was one of mild curiosity. Beckett sent him her best glare. He beamed at her.

"You're so cute when you're mad," he said lightly.

Beckett tipped her head back helplessly as his fingers curled again. She gripped the arms of the chair harder. "Castle, please, just… someone's going to look up or enter the room or something any second!"

"Good point." Castle nodded. "Wouldn't want to leave you hanging."

If they were caught, her sexual frustration would be the least of their worries, but Beckett didn't bother to correct him; not when he was picking up speed and intensity. Beckett allowed her hips to rise slightly off the seat of the chair as her orgasm spilled over. She breathed slowly through it, trying to both hide what was happening to her body and enjoy the sensations as much as possible. The result must have looked hilarious to Castle, because he had the most ridiculous grin on his face.

Looking down at herself, Beckett was glad she wasn't wearing jeans. "Castle, fetch me that box of tissues," she said, her voice low.

Castle reached over to the small coffee table a few feet away and got the tissue box, taking one before handing the box to Beckett. He wiped off his hand while Beckett wiped off her thighs, then collected the dirty tissues and threw them away in the wastepaper basket.

No sooner had Beckett finished finger-combing her hair and rearranging herself then a nurse stepped through the door, clipboard in hand. "Mr. Castle?" The lady asked, looking around the waiting room.

Castle and Beckett both stood up, and Beckett was suddenly grateful they weren't there for  _her_  physical. "Try not to look too smug," she grumbled to him as they followed the nurse to the examination room.

As usual, he ignored her, that dopey grin staying plastered on his face for the rest of the day.


	5. Crime Scene

"Beckett! This is a crime scene."

"Mm-hmm," Beckett hummed while continuing to undo his pant's zipper.

"A crime scene in a  _surgery room_!" Castle tried again.

Beckett ignored him in favor of tugging down the waistband of his jeans.

In all honesty, he wasn't doing a whole lot to stop her because, well, deep down he didn't want to stop her. He wanted to let her have her wicked way with him. But the responsible part of him wouldn't shut up about how this was a crime scene, there was blood splattered all over the room next door, and the surgery walls were thin…

"For once, Castle, can you shut up and stop thinking?" Beckett said, her loving tone taking all of the bite out of her remark.

"But…"

"Shh."

Beckett freed his manhood from his boxers. Despite the protests his brain had been putting up, his, well, other brain seemed to really agree with Beckett's current plan of action. She studied him for a moment, and then took just the tip of him into her mouth, flicking her tongue against the head before pressing her tongue flat against it. Castle groaned, leaning his head back against the wall. Beckett smiled around the object in her mouth, then opened her mouth wide and drew him in almost all the way. She slowly withdrew him from her mouth, dragging her tongue along the bottom of him the entire way. She repeated the action a few times, slow and deliberate. Castle breathed in and out slowly, doing his damndest not to make a noise. The dirty minx knew that he got vocal when she did this, and she was using it to tease him.

He was pretty sure this was payback for that trick he'd played on her in the waiting room a couple of weeks back.

Beckett scraped her teeth gently along his shaft as she moved her mouth down, and Castle's head fell back so quickly that he struck the wall. "Shit," he muttered.

"Hmm?" There really needed to be a law against Beckett humming while she had his cock in her mouth. Castle made a fist and resisted the urge to bang it into the wall at his back.

"Kate--seriously… you have to…"

Beckett responded by calmly bringing up one hand to grip him at the base, while the other used his hip as leverage to push him back against the wall. Castle's hands flew into her hair of their own accord. He tried to gently tug her head back, away from him, but she gave a slight shake of her head and went on as if he weren't doing anything.

At that point, Castle was too far gone to be able to walk, and since Beckett seemed determined to do this, he decided… well, he was a red-blooded man, after all, and… well…

He gave in, okay?

Castle sank against the wall and closed his eyes. Beckett made a sound of approval that rippled through him. She resumed her activities with renewed vigor, alternately sucking and licking (and occasionally squeezing) him. Castle knew very well how skilled she was at this, but that didn't ever alter how blown away he was every time. The sensations engulfed him, racing through his blood and filling his mind with such a blazing white haze that Ryan or Esposito or even his Mother (he didn't want to think about Gates) could have been standing there and he wouldn't have noticed.

Beckett's eyes flicked up to him momentarily, taking in his condition. She seemed to realize that he was swiftly approaching the point of no return, because she promptly deep-throated him. Castle gritted his teeth, a low grunt the only sound escaping his lips. Beckett was relentless, and the thought flashed across his mind, not for the first time, that she really could have made a career out of this and been richer than he was…

Hollowing out her cheeks, Beckett drew him out in a long, final suck, and he lost it. Fireworks exploded inside of him, tiny explosions of pleasure that ratcheted through his system, inflaming his blood and burning his skin and generally making him a worthless pile of goo.

It took a good minute, but the sparks of pleasure finally subsided and his vision cleared. He opened his eyes to find Beckett standing in front of him, her hands braced on either side of his head, a gleaming smile on her face.

Castle lunged forward and kissed her, his hands coming to wrap around her waist. Beckett responded happily, allowing him to taste both her and his juices on her tongue. As he kissed her, Beckett's hands busied themselves with pulling up and buttoning his pants, so that by the time they broke apart, he was once again presentable.

"Yo, where'd Castle and Beckett go?" Esposito's voice carried over from the next room.

Beckett gently tapped Castle's nose with her finger. Their slow, wide grins blossomed on their faces in sync.

"In here!" Beckett called, stepping away from Castle and heading back towards the gory surgery room. "We thought there might be something in the other surgery here."

"Maybe the killer hid in here while waiting to strike?" Castle asked.

As the investigation continued, Castle was confident that no one knew what had happened. Well, except perhaps Lanie, who kept giving Beckett the Eye of Impending Interrogation (patented by one Dr. Lanie Parish, M.E.).

But oh, it had been worth it. It had been  _so_  worth it.


	6. Ambulance

Despite the lack of maneuverability, the chance of discovery, and the potential for disaster (in many forms), people still insist upon having sex in cars. It was an activity that Beckett no longer condoned but had participated in on many an occasion in her younger years.

However, she was fairly certain that no one had yet had sex in an ambulance.

The argument in favor of such an act was more elbowroom, solid doors that could be locked and no windows for people to peer into, a sturdy frame to keep rocking to a minimum, and it was relatively soundproof.

The case against such a course of action was, of course, that they were in what was practically an emergency room on wheels, and that someone could catch them at any second because of that.

Beckett wasn't particularly concerned with weighing the pros and cons, because at the moment Castle's right hand was down her pants while the other was tangled in her hair. Fortunately she didn't mind it, as she was busy trying to get his shirt off (so many damn buttons!) while kissing him senseless.

Nearly getting buried alive will do wonders for your sex drive, apparently. Something about reaffirming your physical and emotional bond and feeling alive after a near-death experience, she was sure. Beckett tried not to think about that--either the philosophical and psychological implications or the actual being stuck beneath a mountain of dirt thing--and focused on the man here with her now, the man who had also just gone through hell and emerged, drained but victorious…

The man who was currently waging war with her zipper.

"Rick, just… let me." She broke free of his questing fingers and peeled off her pants, soggy and stained from the soil she'd crawled through. Her shirt was next. He stopped her at her bra, though.

"Allow me," he whispered. He reached around and undid the clasp, planting kisses on her breasts as they spilled free.

She hummed deep in her throat, her mouth open and slack with pleasure. "Now you," she mumbled as her eyes slid closed.

There was the sound of fabric moving and buttons popping, and then it was simply blissful skin on skin. Castle was warm and sweaty and  _alive_ , his muscles taught beneath the thin covering of skin. They jumped and twitched as her hands gripped and glided over his skin, and he groaned as she absently massaged his shoulders as they kissed.

He murmured some indistinct words, his mouth imprinting them onto her skin as he moved down her neck. Although she couldn't fully make out what he was saying, she knew what he was getting at by his tone, and she shushed him.

"Don't," she warned him, her voice breaking. "Stop thinking, Rick, please, just…"

"Kate," he groaned. He pulled her closer to him, right onto his lap, his hands spanning her back. "Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate…" Every time he wasn't kissing some part of her body, he was saying her name.

"I'm here," she promised him. "I'm here, you're here, oh God Rick…"

The worst part had been the separation. They'd faced bombs, possible radiation poisoning, a gigantic freezer and drowning in the Hudson (just to name a few scenarios), but they had always, always been together. Beckett remembered clinging to the edge of the roof last spring, crying out for Castle. She had never felt so alone until that moment--that is until she'd been six feet under, knowing he was in the same condition but not with her.

Gently, he laid her down on the floor of the vehicle, his blue eyes filled with sorrow and love. She rubbed circles into his back, encircling him with her legs. She remembered the microphones the bastard had put in the coffins, allowing them to speak to one another. She remembered what Castle had repeated to her, over and over again, once they'd lost hope of being rescued.

He was repeating those words now.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much, Kate. Always. Always, always, always. I love you."

He said them as he slid into her, as they began to move. She kissed him again and again, branding him with her love. She was never good with emotions; she never handled them as well as she wished she could have. So she soaked up his love and his strength, desperately showing him with her body how much he meant to her.

Her orgasm was just as good as usual--that is to say, amazing and better than any she'd had with another partner--but it wasn't earth shattering. It wasn't the point. The point was to be with him, to feel him with her, not to work off steam or have a little fun. She needed every part of him with her, in her, so joined with her that they couldn't be separated no matter how hard the world tried.

They lay there for a bit afterwards, running their hands slowly over each other, and kissing lazily when the mood struck them. She kept staring right into his eyes, drinking up all that she found within. He stroked her hair, carefully untangling the sweaty knots.

"Kate…" He whispered, the word drawn-out and turned into a prayer. It was as if in that word, he could find all the answers to the universe. The meaning of life, the definition of love… everything.

"I love you," she whispered back.  _All I want is you, all I need is you, everything is you, you, you._

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up adorably. "We should get checked out and go home."

She nodded. She didn't want to leave his arms, or this place, this little cocoon they'd carved out of the mass of people and noises and insanity. But common sense was making her aware of her exhaustion, and the possibility of brain damage from oxygen deprivation, and that she still needed to give Gates an official report, and…

"C'mon, Kate." He got up and offered her his hand. She accepted it, letting him help pull her up.

Dressed and looking presentable once more (or as presentable as they were going to get with their clothes covered in dirt), they crouched by the back doors of the ambulance.

"Are you ready?" Castle asked, searching her face.

Was she ready to face the world again? A world where a killer that nearly got them still lurked, a world filled with questions and uncertainties and bothersome captains and all manner of unpleasantness? Was she prepared to go through it all again?

She wasn't sure.

Castle's hand found hers, capturing it in a warm, safe little hideaway. At least in a world where her life and everything else could be taken, her heart was safe with him.

"Let's go," he said softly.

They stepped out of the ambulance and into the world.


	7. Sleep Study

Castle lay in the darkened room, trying to get to sleep. He'd spent all of last night awake, watching film after film to keep from dozing off. Now that he was supposed to sleep, however, he couldn't.

He glanced over at the monitors next to the bed. The doctors weren't bothering to observe him from a two-way mirror or anything like that. All they had to do was hook him up to the sensors and wake him up eight hours later. If he didn't get to sleep soon, though, they wouldn't have enough data and they'd have to repeat the study again in a week or two.

With a huff, he shifted in the bed. He felt like a lab rat.

There was a slight creaking sound, and he sat up. A shaft of light pierced the dark as the door to the room was quietly opened. A familiar figure was framed in the glow of the lights for a bare moment, before the door shut and the room was plunged into darkness once more.

Castle felt, rather than saw, the person coming towards him. The bed creaked and dipped as that someone climbed onto it, crawling so that they were kneeling facing him.

"Hey," Beckett said softly. He could hear the grin in her voice.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "How did you even get in?"

"Well, after I dropped you off I had a chat with the doctor in charge, and asked if I could observe you for a short bit. He said sure. He left after a couple of minutes to go and attend to some paperwork, so I was by myself. I saw that you had trouble getting to sleep and… well…"

He smirked and reached out, grabbing her and pulling her to him.

"I don't understand it," he admitted. "I stayed up all night."

Beckett leaned in so that their foreheads were touching. It was both unnerving and arousing that they couldn't see each other; they had to go by touch and sound alone. "I think I know what the problem is," she admitted mischievously.

"And that is…?"

"We usually have sex before we go to sleep. If I'm still at the precinct, I still wake you up when I get home and we do it then. Your body is trained to expect sex before sleep."

He gaped at her. She must have sensed his expression, because she laughed.

"Why, Detective Beckett…" He said slowly. "You have quite the scientific mind. Are you suggesting that you're Pavlov and I'm the dog?"

"No one's arguing about the last part."

He kissed her on the cheek, which distracted her from his hands, which were finding her rib cage. He tickled her, and she jumped before collapsing against him, giggling madly. "Castle, cut it out!" She hissed. "Stop it!"

He laughed along with her as they wrestled. Finally she got his hands pinned to the bed. He could feel her glare like a laser beam through the darkness.

"So, Detective…" He asked. "Am I to understand that you're here to help me get to sleep?"

In response, he felt her lower herself to press against him, her breath hot on his ear as she bent her head. "Well, sleep might be the result." She shrugged innocently.

His grin was feral, even though he knew that she couldn't see it. He lurched upwards to take her lips for a kiss, and felt her smile against his mouth as she reciprocated. She kept his hands firmly inside of hers, refusing to let him touch her. After a moment of struggling, he let her take control.

Beckett moved his hands so that he two wrists were being pinned with only one of her hands, freeing the other to move southwards. There was a moment of clicking, then the sound of a zipper being tugged down. Then he felt his pajama bottoms being pulled. He lifted his hips, allowing her to push his pants down his legs. When he felt her press her pelvis to his, he nearly lost it.

She wasn't wearing any underwear, and he could feel her wet, slick skin. She slid herself over his erection; not letting him in, but allowing him to feel her heat. He growled.

"C'mon, Kate," he said.

She chuckled darkly. "Maybe you shouldn't tickle me."

He brought one leg up to hook around her waist, pinning her against him so that he could grind against her a few times. She whimpered.

"Maybe you shouldn't tease me," he retorted.

Beckett nipped at his pulse point. "Fair enough," she whispered, releasing his hands.

He was immediately all over her. He pushed his hands up underneath her sweater, feeling the heated skin beneath. She writhed in his touch, her hair spilling over her shoulders to drape around him, brushing over his face like silken tendrils. He tugged her down to him, kissing her wildly. They were both a little sloppy thanks to the lack of visual aids, but it didn't make it any less erotic. On the contrary, depriving themselves of one of their senses seemed to have heightened the other four.

Although she'd allowed him to touch her, Beckett was still firmly in control. She decided when to get down to the actual deed, and she was the one who set the pace. Not that he minded. Beckett was unbelievably sexy when she was in control.

Perhaps it was the darkness, or her position of power; or maybe his body was more exhausted then he'd given it credit for. Whatever the cause, within a few strokes he could already feel the tide rising within him. He choked out a warning, to which Beckett responded with an eager cry. He took that an encouragement and began to rise to meet her as she lowered herself onto him again and again. Their movements became choppy towards the end, but he kept going, his body demanding that he not stop. The pleasure was at its high point and about to spill over. He grabbed her hips and held her still. Beckett moaned as he pounded into her, her entire body shuddering as he finished frantically.

She wobbled for a moment and then fell onto him, laughing and sucking in air. "Love… love it when you do that," she gasped out.

"Ditto," he replied, chuckling.

He felt her raise her head. "I want to stay, but…"

He shook his head, even though he knew that she couldn't see it. "It's okay." He stifled a yawn.

"I heard that."

He laughed.

Beckett leaned forward and kissed him. "I'll see you in a few hours," she assured him. "Get some sleep, make the doctors happy."

She slipped out of his arms. A moment later he saw her framed in the doorway. She glanced back at him, giving him a view of her glowing skin, sweat-drenched hair and red love marks. Then she closed the door, and he left in the darkness again.

He was asleep within seconds.


End file.
